Till The Bitter End
by klauswolfqueen
Summary: What if Hayely was a hunter and a friend of the Mystic Falls gang before she was pregnant? What if she also had a history with the family?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note; I just thought this up while watching the show. What would it be like if Hayley were friends with the Mystic Falls gang and that was how she and klaus met before the baby and everything else. **

**Hope you like it! Please review!**

**2012**

**Mystic Falls, Virginia**

Surveying the crowd, his eyes locked on the doppelganger and Stefan. Every time he saw her, all he could think of was Tatia, accompanied with the brief flashes of Katherine from long ago.

Smiling, Elena dropped Stefan's hand, a lingering look passing between them as Stefan walked away, giving his brother easy access. It seemed nothing had changed. A thousand years and the Petrova women are still dividing brothers, from Tatia, to Katherine and now Elena.

Lingering thoughts and memories, not worth remembering, he quickly refocused his attention on Stefan. If the older Salvatore had the doppelganger that could only mean that Stefan was off to play hero, eliciting an atypical smirk on Alaric's face.

This body may not remember the Ripper, but Niklaus does.

Weaving through a crowd of terribly dressed teeny boppers, Stefan stepped between a couple, offering his hand to the female. Leaning in he whispered something, an intimate gesture, while looking around the room.

"Sporting, Stefan?" Klaus snickered, under his breath. This was more the Salvatore that he remembered, one without conscience, who was blood thirsty and less possessive in his intentions with women.

At that moment, if he had looked away and focused his attentions on finding the witch or tracking the doppelganger, he would have missed it. He wouldn't have seen them turn and maybe everything could have been different.

If he were naïve or superstitious, Klaus would have called it fate, but a thousand years and ten life times had sapped him of such silly notions. It wasn't fate, destiny, or any other mysterious barrier of joy, but the reaper of misfortune: his mother, he had to thank.

Brunette curls slid over a pastel pink shoulder, revealing brown eyes and a face that had too many names to curse at once: Emily, Nataline, Hannah, Interloper, Devil, Misery, etc. and the first, the one he'd always remember because it would haunt him till the end of all days.

"Lyanna," he whispered, prayed and spat all at once. A strange, horrid, but annoyingly familiar feeling of hatred and nostalgia flooded him. The Chinese had a word for it, they called it _Yuanfen_: a predetermination of a relationship beyond one's control. The Portuguese called it _Saudade_: the longing for someone that you lost- a vague and constant remembrance of something that cannot be.

It had been ninety years and he could still smell her perfume, hear her laugh and feel her skin- leaving Alaric's hands with an uncomfortable tingling sensation. The last time he'd seen her she was dying, bleeding out before him and there was nothing he could do because it was he that pulled the trigger.

"Klaus…" she had questioned and accused with her last breaths.

Funny, a hundred years (give or a take a few decades) and it was always a surprise when she appeared, as if it was the first time, every time. For moments, he was paralyzed, watching them whisper amongst themselves. Until finally Stefan released her hand and the boy she'd been dancing with before, took his place, a look of concern on his face.

"Be concerned, boy," Klaus murmured under his breath.

He was too close, now. He didn't have time to deal with this. He'd have to kill her, simple as that. He'd wait until they left the dance floor; she went to the restroom or whatever it took. And then, he'd corner her and snap her neck before it began again: before she ruined his plans.

When the song ended, the opportunity presented itself. Separating, she excused herself, walking to the edge of the gym, to the punch bowl. Shiftily, cutting through students, nodding and smiling, he made his way towards her, careful not to lose her in the crowd. Finally, feet away, he prepared himself to see that face so close once again and compel her, when his efforts were thwarted. Turning, she spoke to him, before he could find the words.

"Alaric, have you seen Elena?"

Swallowing, "No dear…" he quickly searching through Alaric's memory and pulled her name, "Hayley. I haven't."

Setting down her glass, she moved closer, lowering her voice, "We should find her. Stefan says the Klaus could be here."

The sound of his name, from her lips, set off a dozen small alarm bells in his mind.

Did she already know of him? How? It had never been this way before. She would never recognize, remember him. How could she? She was different every life, never the same Lyanna but always the same woman. The doppelganger_, Katheri_- Elena, must have warned her.

"Now that you mention it, I think I saw her leaving the gym," he retorted, leaned forward, taking Hayley by the forearm, "Let us go find her."

Hesitating, she looked back over her shoulder, presumably searching for her dopey teenage boyfriend.

"He'll be fine," Klaus barked, without thinking, leading Hayley to look at him strangely.

"I know."

Her hand slid down his arm, touching him briefly on bare skin, "I'll just tell him, I'll be right back. I don't want him to worry."

He missed every word past 'I'll', as a ghastly realization came over him. Grabbing her hand before she could part, he deftly pinched her pulse point.

"Alaric, what is it?" Confused she stared up at him briefly before tugging her hand back.

"Nothing, I thought I saw her," he recovered quickly. "Go ahead and find him. I'll check the halls."

Before Hayley could respond he was practically jogging towards the door, not daring to look back. He couldn't do it now. It wouldn't be as easy.

In a state of shock, he abandoned the plan. It had been ten lifetimes and never once had she been anything but human. He should have known it wouldn't be easy now, not when he was so close. He should have known, after a thousand years she would develop some new edge. Isn't that, after all, what animals did? They adapted, adjusted and selected their environment, so as to become better predators.

Each time she left him, she'd come back more potent than the last.

He needed to find the witch first. Neutralize the defense. Then he'd make his move for the doppelganger.

Hayley would have to wait. She'd meet her end. Yes, sweet, tortuous, cruel Lyanna would die soon. But it wouldn't be in the hallways of a southern high school. It wouldn't be in the streets of Paris, the clubs of Chicago. And it wouldn't be somewhere a hundred years from now. It would be tomorrow, along with the Petrova doppelganger.

Smiling now, he realized that for the first time, he had found relief, long lasting relief.

He'd kill the doppelganger, regain his powers and in the same breath, use Lyanna- Hayley- as his Vampire sacrifice and finally rid himself of his mother's curse, completely and totally.

"Hayley," he said it again, as he turned the corner, letting it roll off his tongue. This time it would be different. This time, he'd learned. Lyanna, Emily, Hannah, Hayley… whatever her name may be. She wouldn't be as lethal this time, he wouldn't allow it.

"Sweet Hayley," he hummed to himself, jovially.

This time it would be different, he promised himself.

**10th century**

Sweaty hands twisted and struggled against the pestle and mortar. In the heat of the day, the smell of Rosemary, Lavender, Burdock and Nettle hung heavy in the air.

"Not so fine, dear. If the powder is too fine, it won't thicken."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ma, have you seen Elijah?"

Hastily brushing sweaty matted curls from her forehead, Lyanna attempted to straighten her appearance before Niklaus burst into the room.

"I sent him to fetch me water, Nik. He'll be back in not but a minute."

Nervously looking up, Lyanna antagonistically prayed that she'd both blend into the thatch background of the wall and that he'd finally notice her.

"While you're here, you could take these sacks with you."

He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Lyanna had thought so since they had been children. But she was sure he didn't feel the same. Niklaus Mikaelson was desired by more than half the girls in the village. And those who didn't desire him hated him, because he'd stolen their affection, promising something more but never delivering.

Lifting the heavy bags of grain, he heaved it over his shoulder and headed for the door, before accidentally bumping into her, causing the mortar to fly from her hands onto the ground.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there."

Nervously, dropping to her knees, she scrambled to pick up the clay pieces, her eyes directed at the dirt.

He had never seen her. No one really had.

At sixteen Lyanna was neither decidedly ugly nor beautiful, she was simply plain. Medium height, her gangly limbs had yet to develop the curves that the other girls of the village had already grown into and the men admired. Her mother always said it was just as well. She didn't need to have boys chasing after her, giving her favours, thinking of marriage. She had greater things to accomplish in life, besides wedding a man, having babies and most notably, leaving her mother all alone.

Determined that her daughter wouldn't leave and forget her, that her child would be special, Neda had sent Lyanna to work with Esther, the only healer they had in the village.

"Someday, she'll teach you all the things she knows and then you too can be a healer. You can take care of your loving mother and put food on our table," she coaxed her at night, when Lyanna would come home full of doubts about her abilities.

She enjoyed the work. There were times she almost preferred to be at Michelson's than home. Their house was always so busy, bustling with noise and activity- a family. Not at all like hers, where there was nothing else but mother and the deafening sound of disappointment. Years ago, when Lyanna was still a child, too young to remember, her father had left the village. He had slipped out late one night, running with a woman Neda had never even known that he knew: a lover, much younger than her mother, leaving Neda to become the seed of gossip and pity for years to come.

Dropping the sack, he bent to help her. Reaching for the same piece at once, his fingers brushed over hers. It was brief, insignificant, but to Lyanna, it felt like the world stopped. They made eye contact for less than a second before she turned away, nervous, "I'm fine. You don't have to."

Her hands shook, as she collected each piece.

"Are you sure?"

She shook her head, too scared to look up. Shrugging, he picked up the sack again, and headed for the door. When he was out of earshot, Esther finally responded, "It's not you dear…. He doesn't always see things correctly."

"I don't know what you mean." she squeaked out.

In a tone her mother had never used before, Esther soothed, "There will be others. Someday, boys… someday they'll notice."

Embarrassed, Lyanna didn't answer, only shrugged her shoulders like she didn't understand the context of her comments. Having a daughter of her own, Esther knew all too well, that look of disappointment on a young girl's face.

Poor Lyanna, she was such a sweet child. What she lacked in looks she made up for in sincerity.

Touching her shoulder, Esther concluded, "Why don't you go home for the day, dear? Your mother will be looking for you. We can finish this tomorrow."

As Lyanna scurried out of the house, she looked both ways, relieved to see neither of the Mikaelson brothers had returned. Pulling her hand tighter against her apron, she rubbed the spot that he had touched and smiled to herself. But as quickly as her stomach twisted with excitement, it dropped with reality.

What a stupid, silly girl she was. Niklaus Mikaelson didn't even know she existed. Ducking between thatched huts, navigating her way home, the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky darkening.

And in the distance, a wolf howled. Looking both ways, Lyanna picked up her skirts and ran the last distance home, sure to make it inside before darkness fell over the village.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys thanks for reading. I have not copied anything. Don't be jealous. I don't even know who bkgrl is and she copied me. **

**10 century**

**Mystic Falls**

With a child saddled on her hip, dark, errant, curly strands of hair blew and settled around her face. Making her appear even more beautiful than she already was, if it were even possible. The child, Shae, she called it, squirmed and squealed in her arms as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

Neda looked from her niece to the child, then back to her niece again. A slow unfamiliar smile spreading across her lips, one Lyanna would later recognize as pride. Years past, Esther had mentioned that her mother once looked much different. With long dark hair and almond eyes, men use to treat her as if she were something special. You'd never know it now. Her dark hair, grey, eyes weighted with bags and framed by wrinkles told the tale of a hard life.

Mayhaps Neda saw herself, the Petrova look, in Tatia. She most certainly didn't see it in Lyanna. Her ash colored hair and blue eyes came from her father, leaving Lyanna feeling all that more apologetic. Someone as beautiful as her mother had once been, never had a child to reflect that, only instead, a lingering reminder of a spouse long gone.

She'd arrived, walking through the village in the early hours of morning. With nothing but a few belongings wrapped in cloth and Shae cradled in her arms, Tatia Petrova, drew an eye from every man she passed.

Easily soliciting directions, it took her a matter of minutes to find Lyanna and Neda's hut and even less time for Lyanna's mother to welcome her inside with open arms. From that very first day that she set foot inside their small community, nothing would ever be the same. First there were whispers of her beauty, followed by snickers of a scandal- a child without a named father. Then finally, came conflict as the men of the village and two brothers in particular, squabbled for scraps of her affection.

He wasn't like the others. Very few of the Mikaelson children ever bothered to even acknowledge Lyanna when she was in their home, working with their mother. But Elijah had always been different. Each morning, he'd greet her as she passed through the door and every afternoon, he'd bid her goodnight before she left.

Although, kind, she was surprised to discover he knew he name, when one morning instead of greeting her in his own home, he stood at her door.

"Good morning, Lyanna."

Confused, she peered up; covering her eyes from the rays of sunlight that streamed past his shoulders.

"May I speak with Tatia?"

Her cousin had arrived less than four days previous and she was already well acquainted with the Mikaelson boys.

"I-I..." Glancing behind her, Lyanna frantically looked about the small room, wondering how to proceed next. Did she invite him in? Did he wait outside? They'd never had guests in their home before.

"Elijah," Tatia's saccharine sweet voice chirped, "I'd thought you had forgotten me."

"Never."

As they left, Lyanna could hardly find the words to respond to his goodbyes, staring blankly after them as they wandered away.

That was the first of many mornings he'd arrive at their door, after his morning chores. Ready and willing to assist Tatia in whatever she desired. Like a pet he'd follow her, bending to her will.

At night, after she'd return from work, Tatia would question her, probing for what she knew of the Mikaelsons and all Lyanna could do little but babble back uninformative responses. She knew little of what to say about them, other than the fact that they were pulchritudinous and until recently, with Elijah, had never said more than a few words to her.

"Come, you must know more," Tatia insisted, "You spend almost every day in their home."

"Working, Tatia." Yes, she knew more, but she was ashamed to admit how much she cared or just how closely she'd watched.

"Do you not speak with them? Are they mute in your presence?" she teased.

"They do not speak to me," Lyanna weakly responded.

"So you cannot draw them into conversation? Lyanna, why must you always be so shy?"

How else should she be? She knew nothing different. What could she possibly have to say that the Mikaelson boys would want to hear?

Resting Shae in her lap, she bridged the short distance, her hand warm against her face. "You could be beautiful if you wished to be."

Lyanna smiled, "Could I also be wealthy, all knowing? Wishing for something does not make it real."

She'd never had a sister before. She'd hardly had a friend other than her mother. Tatia, and occasionally Esther, were the only people who had ever bothered to talk to Lyanna, ask her about herself, and care for what she had to say.

Tatia made her feel important and she loved her for it, to an extent that she couldn't have known then.

Ever since she could remember they would sleep in the caves on nights when there was a full moon. Quietly they'd wait in the dark, piled on top of one another, shuddering at the horrible noises they'd hear outside those walls.

Although she was aware, they were hiding from the "wolves", Lyanna never really knew if she believed that the legends were true until she saw one for herself.

Coming out of their dark hiding spot as dawn broke over the horizon, the villagers wandered out into the day to continue their lives after another long sleepless night. Reporting to Esther first thing, Lyanna followed her requests to collect the rest of the Peat moss that they'd discovered growing in the shallows of the forest not a week past.

However, when she went to gather, she found the growth crushed by the bloodied body that lay strewn over it. At first she'd thought it was animal, with its strange contortions and gnarled features. But the closer she looked, she saw remnants of clothing, tattered and torn across human skin.

Cautiously approaching, its breath was shallow and labored as it huddled on its side, clutching a wound.

"Hello?" it was barely a whisper but the thing/ person heard it immediately, his head snapping up, eyes darting around, until finally settling on her.

He didn't answer, only curled further into himself. Hesitating, she slowly inched closer, "Are you hurt?"

When she was within clearer viewing distance, feet away, she could see that he was young, barely older than her. His face was partially covered but she recognized him when he peered up again, in obvious pain.

"Noah?" he didn't answer.

"W-wait here," like he had any other option, "I will be right back."

Before he could protest, she was gone, running back to the village, completely forgetting about the Peat. Bursting into the Mikaelson home she was too out of breath to explain herself, instead only bidding Esther to follow, hoping she'd know what to do.

When they arrived, Esther saw Noah in his condition and simply instructed, "Wait."

For what? Lyanna didn't know.

Leaving Lyanna with the gravely injured man, she sunk to the ground, creeping her way closer.

"S-she will come back," was the only comfort she could offer. And what little comfort it was. Shaking violently, his skin had gone ashy, covered in a thick sweat.

"I-I d-don't want to die," he finally managed.

As scared as she may have been, Lyanna reached out, lifting his head until she could slide her legs under, resting it in her lap.

"You will not," she promised, not knowing if she could fulfill it.

All the stories she'd heard as a child about the wolves and the entire time she'd thought them to be from somewhere else, someone else's people. Naively, never did she imagine they could be her own neighbors. Noah Lockwood was Kol Mikaelson's age. His mother had died in her birthing bed, leaving only he, his father and an older brother. She'd known him her whole life.

Wiping sweat from his face, he leaned into her touch for comfort.

"L-lyanna?"

"Yes."

"D-do not t-tell a-anyone."

"I promise. I will not."

"He's not fully turned," a female's voice pierced the quiet forest.

Looking up in time, Lyanna saw Ayana and Esther gazing down at the boy, assessing his condition.

Bending, strange woman lifted his hand from the wound, examining it even as he shook and struggled.

"They must have turned on him."

"Should we help him?" The real question was could they help him?

The two women looked at one another as if debating before coming to a conclusion.

Acting as if Lyanna were not even there, holding his head in her lap; they women began whispering something she couldn't make out: their words sharp and quick. For minutes they repeated the same phrases over and over, in a tongue Lyanna had never heard, their attention focused on Noah.

Finally, there was a sharp cracking noise, like a branch severing from a trunk. In shock, Noah lurched forward, clutching at his side, screaming out in agony, scaring Lyanna half to death. But through it all the women seemed unaffected by his agony, continuing, their words grew louder and louder until finally they drowned out Noah's cries.

Then, as soon as it had begun it was over. Immediately falling silent, the women stopped, acting as if nothing had happened.

Noah laid unresponsive, limbs still, face tucked into Lyanna's lap. Turning his head, she found him asleep, the look of pain washed from his face.

Before she could think to question what they had done, Ayana was walking away, wandering back in the direction of the village, Esther, collecting the Peat that lay beneath him.

"W-will he be alright?" the wound that was opened and egregious moments before, was closed, his shirt had not a spot on it.

"Yes," Esther answered simply, lifting Noah's knee and tugging at the crushed undergrowth. Pausing, at Lyanna's silence (who was unsure how to continue), Esther looked down at the young man, thoughtfully, "He looks so much like his father."

There was something about the way she had said it, a tone in her voice that Esther had never used before. If she didn't know any better, Lyanna would have thought it filled with the ghost of longing.

Without further comment Esther piled the Peat into her skirt, turning to head back to the village.

"Wait," Lyanna called out, "What do we do? We cannot just leave him."

Turning, Esther looked back at the sleeping man and shrugged, "He will be fine. Let him rest. We have work to do."

Offering nothing more, she continued forth, prompting Lyanna to take one last look at Noah, before lifting his head out of her lap and scrambling after her.

Struggling, Lyanna pulled Shae close as she bent, dropping her basket, collecting Echinacea in the summer heat. She was miles from the village now, sent by Esther to collect as much as possible before sundown. Kneeling, she laid the sleeping child on a soft patch of grass and crawled through the dirt from plant to plant, her hands were cut and bleeding by the time she heard a rustling and the whisper of voices.

Popping her head up, she looked east to west, but saw no travelers. Returning to work, she detected the same noises once more, only this time it was followed by a muffled cry. Concerned, Lyanna crawled forward for a few yards, following the sound.

Mayhaps someone was hurt, or an animal injured.

What she saw next, she'd wish until the day she died she'd never seen.

At first it was bare feet, legs then bodies, tense as they slid against each other.

With her dress tossed aside, Tatia laid naked and shaking under Niklaus, her face buried against his neck. In shock, Lyanna knew not whether to turn away or announce her presence as they rutted away for seconds, whispering and moaning encouragement into each other's slick skin.

"I love you," he murmured repeatedly answered only by her sharp breaths.

She wished nothing else other than to die in that moment, as a strange burning sensation crawling through her veins, chocking the air from her lungs, a sharp pain of sadness and jealousy.

Before she could quietly reverse her steps and crawl back to the baby, run back to the village and pretend that none of it had taken place, Shae woke, crying in the distance. Interrupting their moment of intimacy, they stopped mid motion, both listening to the cries carried by wind.

"Lyanna?"

Flushing with embarrassment, Lyanna looked to the ground as the couple quickly separated, reaching for their scattered clothing.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she managed to get out. "I-I d-didn't mean to. I-I was collect herbs."

"Why whatever do you mean, Lyanna?" Tatia answered innocently, pulling at her dress.

"I thought I- I heard someone- I, I, I thought someone may be hurt."

Touching her shoulder, she blocked Lyanna's view of Niklaus who was tugging on his leathered boots, straightening his tunic.

"Niklaus and I were only resting from our walk."

When Lyanna didn't answer, she reached forward, tugging at her chin till their eyes met.  
"Isn't that right, Lyanna? Isn't that what you saw?"

There was a moment's pause, for decision, as she looked from Tatia to Niklaus. He met her gaze only briefly before looking back to the ground, shoving his fists further into his pockets.

What would poor Elijah think? Something like this would crush such a considerate person.

"Lyanna?" Tatia coaxed.

"Please," Niklaus finally responded, looking up again, to meet Lyanna's persistent stare.

"Okay."

Rising slowly to her feet, she promised both Tatia and Niklaus that day that she would never breathe a word to anyone of the things she'd witnessed. But would forever wish afterward that she had, for she would never see Elijah again in that lifetime and not feel guilt, remorse for her omission.

He came to their home every night after that, long after Neda would be asleep and Elijah had left. Tatia would sit by the fire, reading the small scribbled notes, poems, admiring the pictures Elijah would leave. But when there was a soft knock on the aged wood door, she'd drop the favors one by one into the fire, letting them crackle and curl under in the heat, thoughts and intentions forgotten.

"I will be gone only short a while," she'd say each night, as she left Lyanna to watch Shae. Slipping out into the cool evening she'd follow Niklaus wherever it was that he would take her and would not return until only hours before the sun crept over the horizon.

But their secret touches, smiles and affections would only last so long. Not months past Lyanna's discovery, Tatia darkened Esther's doorway.

"How can I help you?"

With a disapproving eye, Esther surveyed the usually brazen woman, who tentatively smiled, waiting to be welcomed inside.

"Lyanna," Tatia acknowledged, before answering, "I thought you may be able to help me with something."

She looked nervously to Lyanna and then back to Esther.

"Yes, and what would that be?"

"I-" she hesitated, unwilling to continue with company present.

"Anything you may need to say can be said in front of the girl. She must learn."

Licking her lips, Tatia plastered a false smile on her face, before she continued, "I was wondering if I could procure Tansy from you?"

"Tansy?"

"Yes," Tatia replied slowly.

Clinically, coolly, Esther inquired, "Are you with child now?"

"Yes, Mi' Lady... I think."

"Let me look."

Wiping powder from her hands, she nodded in the direction of the nearest table, "Go ahead, up there. I will have a quick look at you."

"That's not necessary."

Stopping, Esther gave her one of the coolest looks Lyanna had ever seen.

"Yes, it is. If I give you the Tansy and you are too far along, the bleeding will kill you."

"I am sure, I will be fine."

Directing the girl back to the table, Esther firmly pushed Tatia into sitting. Without invitation she reached for the hem of Tatia's skirt, pushing the material up and over her hips.

"I do not wish to be a bother," Tatia tried and failed miserably at sounding polite, as she attempted to keep her legs closed against Esther's nudge.

"And I do not want your death on my hands."

Wishing to be less than a fly on the wall, Lyanna attempted to move closer to the door as Esther reached her hand between the girl's legs. She'd seen many a women labor in front of Esther before, but never had she seen such a look of humiliation as when she forced Tatia's knees open.

"Lyanna, come closer," Esther commanded. Hesitantly she obeyed until she was inches from her cousin's feet, trying desperately to not make eye contact.

What if Esther found out that Lyanna knew all along? Would she be mad? Would she curse her or do those things that she wouldn't speak of, because Lyanna had failed to tell her of the things she'd seen that day in the field?

Hastily grabbing Lyanna's hand, Esther shoved it between Tatia's thighs.

"Do you feel that?"

Wet and warm, her hand laid limp inside her cousin as she turned ten shades of red.

"Do you, Lyanna? Come child, nothing to be shy of, now. If you wish to heal, you must not be so squeamish."

Letting out a slow steady breath, her forehead wrinkled with concentration as she wiggled her fingers. Inexperienced, she didn't know what exactly what she should find. Lyanna had hardly explored her own self, much less someone else.

"What do you feel?"

It was subtle but there was a firm wall covered in creamy substance.

"Ah... its firm, Ma'am."

"Very good, her womb is closing."

Before Esther could continue, the women were interrupted by Elijah. Scrambling, Tatia, pulled her legs together, pushing her skirt from her hips. Confused, Lyanna stood there with her hand covered in mucus, looking blankly at Elijah, waiting for someone to say something.

Undeterred from her lesson, Esther ignored the intrusion, continuing, "Rub your fingers together, dear."

Unsure what to do she hesitated, looking at Elijah who remained unmoved, confused and aghast as to what was going on.

"Go ahead, child."

"Mother?"

"Just a moment, Elijah," she responded, holding out her hand to silence him.

Complying, Lyanna did as she was told, rubbing the mucus between the pads of her fingers as it dried and flaked.

"Feel how ropey it is? It gets that way after the first two cycles are missed. It will thicken even further as the child grows."

Sliding from the table, Tatia, attempted to straighten herself and find the words to answer the look of shock and disbelief being thrown in her direction from Elijah.

"You may have the Tansy but you must take it now. Any longer and it will be too late. You will have to carry the child till it is time."

Returning her focus back to Elijah, Esther finally answered, "Yes, what do you need, son?"

"Elijah…" Tatia moved from behind the table, attempting to reach for him.

"Mother?" he looked less like a man and more like a child, wishing desperately for a parent to offer relief, combat the nightmare that was playing out.

"Come Elijah, this is not the first time you have seen a woman with child." It was a strange thing for a mother to do. She made no effort to cushion the blow, hide the truth. Maybe she had known all along and been prepared for this moment.

Giving Tatia one last look, he turned without saying another word, exiting the room, leaving the girl to hurriedly collect her cure. By the time Tatia had left for home, to brew the Tansy that would cast out Niklaus' child, Elijah had found his brother.

"You should go now, Lyanna." Sitting on her small stool, Esther rested her head in her hands, any indifference from before washed away, leaving only the face of a worried mother.

"Ma'am, is there not anything I can do?"

She couldn't explain why, but Lyanna felt the enormous pressure of guilt, as if Tatia's sins were her own.

Weakly smiling, Esther took the girl's hand.

"Do not worry child, you did nothing wrong. I have known for some time."

Reaching up, Esther touched Lyanna's chin, "You are a sweet girl. I wish my sons would have seen that."

"Ma'am…?"

"Go home dear, you did well for the day and I'll have my own things to attend to soon. It would be best if you were not here."

"Yes, Mi' Lady."

The next time she saw Niklaus, he was pounding on the small door to their hut, demanding to see Tatia. Neda was beside herself, confused and unaware what was at play. Tatia sat indifferent by the fire, looking at her cup of brewed Tansy tea, that she still had yet to drink.

It was Lyanna that finally answered, wanting desperately for the pounding to stop. With a cut lip and a purpling eye, it was apparent that either Elijah or Mikael had found him.

"Where is she?" he demanded, attempting to pass by Lyanna, to enter the small room.

"Good evening, Niklaus. Can I help you?" It was the first time she'd ever directly spoken to him. Under other circumstances, those seven, unstuttered, sure words would have been a victory. But at the current moment, with Shae wailing in the background, Lyanna couldn't have cared less who Niklaus Mikaelson was or what he thought of her or anyone else.

"Where is she? Tatia? Tatia!"

"She is not here, Niklaus."

When he attempted to look around her again, yelling Tatia's name, something snapped inside Lyanna. Too many years of being ignored had finally boiled to the surface.

"She is not here!" she bellowed back. "And if she were, she clearly does not wish to speak with you."

Moving forward, as if to brush past her, Lyanna locked her arms in the frame of the doorway, threatening, "Come in here and I swear," she faltered for a moment, "You will regret it."

It was a feeble threat. What could she possibly do if Niklaus chose to force his way in? But it was enough to cause him to pause for thought. Looking down at her, they held eye contact for moments, sizing each other's willpower, until Tatia intervened.

"He's fine, Lyanna. "

Touching her shoulder, Tatia passed the hysterical child into her arms, before following Niklaus outside. It was a day till the next full moon. Making it too dangerous to wander out into the night, no matter what the circumstances may be. Providing what little privacy was possible, Tatia wedged the door shut behind her as they began their heated conversation. Attempting to calm Shae, both Lyanna and Neda couldn't help but overhear.

"Nik, your face."

"Is it true? Will you have…?"

There was a pause.

"Yes."

Someone let out a long pained sigh, most likely Niklaus, before he continued, "It is fine, Tatia. Now we can be honest, wed and be together."

His voice sounded so hopeful, that the response that followed was crushing for even Lyanna to hear.

"Nik, do not be foolish. We cannot wed."

"Why not, is it because you already have a child? I do not care. I could take care of you, you and Shae."

"Niklaus, no."

A short pained pause followed before he accused, "Is it because of him? Elijah will recover. Someday he will understand."

Her answer was deafening in its silence.

"He cannot love you like I do."

"Could he not, Niklaus? For he assures me, that he can."

He loved her desperately but his affections went unreturned. She was all he wanted but she would never be his or any man's. Had it been Elijah at her door, promising the same, she would have mostly likely professed her affection for Niklaus in response: always wishing to have what was just out of reach.

Beauty was a strange thing and a cruel weapon that Tatia Petrova and her descendants would wield at will to manipulate as they please. But as with every gift in nature it was given with a handicap: the inability to ever be satisfied.

After leaving Tatia, Niklaus would never be the same. His pride wounded, he swore to leave the village as soon as possible, to travel anywhere, as far as it would take for him to forget Tatia. But he'd have to wait two days till after the full moon. Travel before, in the woods, was a sure death sentence.

When he returned home to tell his family, Mikael rewarded his heart ache with an onslaught of insults and threats. As Rebekah and Esther clung to him, begging him to reconsider, Elijah and Finn said not a word. Kol for the first time ever was serious, unbelieving that his brother would abandon them for any reason.

And Henrik, he was still a young boy, wishing for nothing more than his older brother to take him on a last adventure before he left.

The whispers of Tatia's indiscretions never became common knowledge as the news of Henrik's death settled over the small community. Whether Tatia ever drank the Tansy tea, Lyanna never knew. She had disappeared like a ghost, not days past the youngest Mikaelson's passing, leaving not even a shred of herself behind or a note in explanation. Her departure was shrouded in mystery until just after dawn, two days after the full moon, a villager came from the woods, carrying a child his arms.

"I found her lying in the forest, beside a trail of blood. I thought perhaps the wolves had gotten hold of a goat." Shae shrieked and squirmed in the man's arms, cold and hungry.

"I looked but I could not find her mother."

They searched for Tatia's body in the woods, but found nothing, the villagers assumed animals. Lyanna knew better.

For days however, she kept her suspicions to herself. Not returning to work at the Mikaelson's as the family appeared to be grieving, shut in their home for days without contact with the outside world.

On that first day when they emerged in the light, finishing their grieving, Lyanna left home to return to work with Esther and ask her the question, for which she feared the answer.

Ayana had only spoken to her once before, when they saved Noah Lockwood. Since then she had never said another word to the girl. But as Lyanna moved through the small village square on her way to the Mikaelson home, the older woman called to her as she passed her door.

"Lyanna." It was so soft, she had thought she'd imagined it at first, until she heard it again; stopping her in her tracks. Ayana was a small woman, inches shorter than Lyanna, but her presence made Lyanna feel as if Ayana was six feet tall, towering over the small girl.

"Where do you go at this hour, child?"

Looking around the small square, no one seemed to notice their conversation.

"To Esther, Ma'am."

"And what business do you have there?"

"She teaches me, Ma'am."

"You will not go there today."

The subtle wrinkles around her eyes, creased in concern as she eyed Lyanna carefully, as if to make her point.

"I must go."

"No, not today, child."

"Why?"

"There is a sickness in their home. You stay away from there."

"If there is a sickness, should I not go and help, Ma'am?"

She turned, then, to continue her journey, confused about Ayana's concern, intrusion and desperate for answers. Sharply, the woman grabbed her wrist, with the strength of a grown man, stopping Lyanna with force.

"I said, you do not go there today, child, or ever again. Your training is done."

Trying to shake her grasp, Lyanna insisted, "But I must. My mother will want me to. Esther will expect me."

Ayana's grip tightened to the point of pain, as she eerily repeated her words with a stare that sent chills down Lyanna's spin, "You don't go there today, or ever again."

Scared, Lyanna shook her head in response, if only to free herself from Ayana's grasp. Releasing her, the older woman, motioned for the girl to follow her into her home.

Hesitating at the door, Lyanna looked around, unsure whether she should cross the threshold, because of the things she had seen before.

"Come in, I have something for you."

When she gave her another look that could freeze water, Lyanna immediately obeyed following her into the small hut. Inside, it looked similar to Esther's herb room, with plants hanging from the ceiling, powders crushed ad collected in pots.

Reaching on her toes, she procured a small clay jar, full of pale blue powder.

"I want you to have this, Lyanna."

Unsure, she looked down at the gift, afraid to accept. Taking her hand, the witch forced the container into her grasp.

"Why?"

"You are a kind girl, a brave little girl. Not many would do what you did for that boy."

When she didn't respond Ayana continued with her instructions, "Brew yourself water, with a pinch of this every morning. Drink the full cup, nothing left behind. You understand me?"

"Yes?" Lyanna answered nervously. "What will it do?"

Ayana looked past her, through the uncovered window, out into the village and those who passed by. Lowering her voice, she answered, "It will keep you safe from sickness."

"What is it?"

"Vervain."

In all the time she had spent with Esther, never had Lyanna seen her use Vervain for anything. For all Lyanna knew the flower was beautiful, growing at the base of the white oak, but had no medicinal purpose.

"You hear me, child? Every day. Do not forget. And do not tell a soul. You understand?"

It was strange request to make, but the woman seemed ardent in her instructions and Lyanna could not sense any malice in her intentions.

"Yes."

"And you stay away from the Mikaelsons, you hear?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

The look of severity left her face, as she concluded, "Now you run along back home. And keep this between us."

"Yes, Ma'am."

When she left, for whatever reason, Lyanna listened to Ayana that day and didn't go to Esther. Instead she went home and brewed the tea as she was instructed, drinking the foul tasting liquid and continued to do so for days, not returning to Esther's as darkness settled over the community and bodies began to pile up. One missing woman, became nothing compared the frenzy of suspicion, accusations and fear levied at the Mikaelsons.

The villagers couldn't pin point what it was about the family that suddenly had become so alarming. On the outside, they appeared normal, grieving perhaps over the loss of a son, but appearances were deceiving. They seemed to have a new aversion to the White Oak that centered the community, dogging it and its plant growth like rats from water.

Finally, seven nights, after Henrik's death, the whole village was lit for hours as the family burned the old oak to the ground.

After that the people would cower as they approached, cautious of their presence. Like prey, they shut up in their houses, all day, preparing for a threat that loomed on the horizon.

"Do not go, Lyanna, I forbid it."

Even Neda now feared the Mikaelsons trying in any way possible to keep her daughter from leaving their home, to work with Esther. Although at first her efforts worked, Lyanna was patient, waiting for her mother to doze before she would leave. She had waited days after her encounter with Ayana to try again but as the suspicions of the family grew and Ayana abandoned her home, Lyanna could wait no longer.

She knew Tatia did not just disappear, that she wouldn't have abandoned Shae and that she wasn't attacked by the wolves. If she waited any longer, Lyanna would lose her nerve.

Something had happened to Tatia and Esther knew. Lyanna could feel it.

As she walked past the small huts of her neighbors, the village felt abandoned. Not a soul walked about, the White Oak's charred ruins adding to the eerie climate.

Arriving at their door, her knocks where answered by Rebekah, who seemed shocked to see her waiting outside their home. Upon entering, sets of eyes unnaturally stalked her throughout the room, setting off dozens of alarms in Lyanna's mind. Ayana was right; there was a sickness in this home.

When Esther led her into the small herbal room, she looked tired.

"You came…" she eyed the young woman closely. "Do you not fear us, like the others?"

Like a bug caught in a spider's web, "No," she lied.

"Did you come to learn?"

"No."

"Then why did you come, child?"

"I know about what you did for that man."

Neither had ever spoken of the incident with the injured wolf. And with four sets of ears listening carefully to every beat of Lyanna's heart from the other room, Esther, was quick to stifle further discussion on the matter.

"Yes," she answered, signaling that their conversation was not private.

"I-I know, y-you have," her confidence was rapidly waning in the crowded atmosphere, "You can do things."

They'd never spoken of that day since. Lyanna preferred not to think of it. But now, something had to be said. There was a child waiting at home, for a mother that would never return. Someday that child would have questions and Lyanna would need to have answers.

The look on Esther's face spoke a thousand words.

"You are smarter than you appear, Lyanna," she admonish approvingly.

Rushing to get it out, before the weight of tension crushed her, she blurted, "Where is she?"

"Who, dear?"

"Tatia."

Her name caused a stir from the other room.

"How should I know?"

"You know," she said in barely a whisper.

Looking again, past Lyanna, presumably to those who listened in the other room, she finally answered, "You are a brave girl for coming here."

Ignoring her compliment, she continued, "She has a child."

"As do I, two in fact." Her answer confirmed what Lyanna had already known. Tatia was dead and Esther was the perpetrator.

Unsure of how to continue further, her racing thoughts were interrupted with a question, "Why do you hold on to someone so wicked?"

"Are not all people wicked? Is that not our nature? But are we not all good as well…" she paused, surprised at her own confidence, "Ma'am?"

Esther thought to answer her until she was distracted. Before Lyanna turned, she could feel it there, a presence staring her down, needling into her, causing her heart to race.

By the time she made eye contact with its owner, her mouth had gone dry with fear. Hovering precariously close, Niklaus looked at his mother then slowly to her.

"Come," he demanded, giving her a strange look.

"Niklaus, no," Esther responded. When she turned to look to her mentor, his gaze followed hers, refusing to allow her to drop eye contact, as he repeated again, "Come here."

"No." she said it, as firmly as she had that night he'd come for Tatia.

Wordless, it seemed like as if he was trying to bend her to his will, when Lyanna felt a shallow indescribable pull in his direction.

"Niklaus, you will not do this."

For whatever reason, Lyanna's fear outweighed the strange inertia driving her to obey. Feeling with everything in her that to comply was wrong, she again responded, "NO."

Before she could blink she felt it, something piercing her neck as her body crashed to the floor. A sharp hiss reverberated through the tiny room, accompanied with a rustling throughout the home.

Reaching to her neck, Lyanna withdrew her hand to find blood trickling from a shallow wound. Looking up from the ground, three of them hovered in the door way, looking at her lecherously as they kept their distance.

Niklaus, grabbed at his mouth for moments, as if in great pain, before he growled moving towards her once again, the room going dark.

He'd grown too strong, his cravings and impulse control worse than the other children. He had almost drained Lyanna to the point of death, fighting through the excruciating burn of Vervain in her blood, weakening him, before Esther was able to pull him off of her: the other children watching hungrily.

It didn't matter what she'd done. Binding his abilities to the moonstone had only stopped his powers from fully developing, but even stifled he was stronger than the others, his behavior even more erratic. If she didn't find a solution, he'd soon find out what she'd done and then there would be no one to stop him.

Looking at Lyanna's limp body in the field she had Elijah carry her to, it was just after dark. Esther had stayed there for an hour after he left, pacing back and forth, trying to decide what to do.

Soon, the girl would surely die. If Esther let her go and then finished off the baby, it would be done. Tatia's line would be finished. But she knew better. Nature had a way of diverting, circumventing even the most well thought out plans. If she killed Tatia's child and Lyanna, it would find another way, the spirits already turning against her for the crime she'd committed, the monsters she'd turned her children into.

She was brave, Esther would give her that. Coming to them, when others would not dare cross their path, demanding to know what had happened to Tatia, denying Niklaus when he compelled her.

As Lyanna's breaths grew shallow, she made a decision. With the girl's blood still warming her undead son, she cast what she didn't know would be the last spell of her human life, saving Lyanna's, by binding her soul to the doppelganger that shared her blood line. If Esther couldn't kill the Petrovas, for fear of what deviation the spirits would take in punishment, she'd make sure the doppelganger would have someone to protect it. Whether that protection was in the form of a worthy adversary or even just a distraction, it didn't matter.

True, Lyanna was not beautiful. She was smart. She was not vibrant like Tatia. She was patient and loyal: all qualities that would make a good guardian. But men, especially her sons, were shallow, easily manipulated by feminine tricks and the promise of something unobtainable.

Brushing hair from the girl's eyes, she whispered, "They'll be beautiful." _But so much more than a pretty face._ Esther cast a spell for hunters, not maidens; a soul to be passed down through Lyanna's line that was shrewd and sharp. A lovely distraction that would be deadly and never far removed from her son, able to effortlessly adjust to his every defense.

"I'm sorry, Niklaus," she said, as the last motherly gesture she would ever have.

There was no other way. That thing was a monster and it needed to be stopped.

She felt as if she were floating. Coming out of a thick fog, something distant was trying to wake her. As time wore on the noise became increasing louder until finally it was blaring.

Shooting up, the sound of screams jolted Lyanna awake. Where was she? In the dark, she looked around, realizing she was lying in a field at the edge of the village.

Thinking of the last few moments, she remembered. Her hand rubbed over her neck, finding two puncture wounds.

But before she had time to put everything together the persistent sound of screams and yelling people called her attention back to the present. People were scrambling everywhere. Running from their homes, children in their arms as houses burned, bodies lay bleeding on the ground.

"Momma," jumping up she ran towards the village, in the opposite direction of everyone else. Within minutes Lyanna burst through their front door, finding the home had already been invaded. Lying over their modest wooden table, her eyes had rolled into the back of her head, showing only their whites. With her neck ripped out, her dress was soaked in blood.

Neda was dead, Shae screaming from her spot on the ground, pointing up at the lifeless body.

Scooping the little girl from the dirt, she held her tight to her chest, tears pouring down her cheeks.

"Lyanna!" Someone was screaming her name. "Lyanna!" It was Noah Lockwood. Tugging at her arm, he pushed her from the hut as she spared one last glance at her mother.

"He's gone crazy, killing everyone." Dragging her behind him, they ran from the village, deep into the forest, for what seemed like forever.

Finally stopping to catch their breath, Lyanna wiped her wet cheeks, "We have to go back. We cannot just leave them."

"They are all dead, Lyanna. We cannot help them now."

In shock, she looked down at Shae, exhausted in her arms.

"W-what am I s-s-supposed to d-do?" She sputtered in disbelief.

Everything she had known was gone.

"I don't know, stick together," he answered, taking her hand once more, just as unsure as she.

And that's what they did.

She was a quiet unsure girl and he was the boy she didn't leave. Had she not held his head that day in the forest, promising he'd live, it would have all ended there. He wouldn't have remembered the woman who cared enough to bring the witches. He wouldn't have felt compelled to remember her kindness. Noah Lockwood wouldn't have searched for her as Mikael ravaged the village in a jealous rage.

He wouldn't have saved her and Shae. He wouldn't have fallen in love with her sincerity.

And it all would have been different, saving generations of men and Niklaus Mikaelson, lifetimes of agony and regret.

With distant relatives across the ocean, they ran until they found the shore line. Wedding Lyanna, Noah Lockwood worked until he could pay for their passage and then sailed with his new wife and child, Shae, across the vast ocean.

They settled with his family outside Pisa and had two more daughters.


End file.
